I doubt leisure is the gift given old age.
It seems the river Song runs swifter now.
Still I do seek to fish from the flow
Lyrics that break all barriers.
My body may have turned to an ash heap of pains,
Yet I poke at the smothered ambers
To sometimes stoke a fire again.
My mind is ever warmed by its glow,
This strange simmering of words called poetry.
Meditation Upon One Thought in Rabindranath Tagore’s. “The Gift”
-- Larry Eugene Meredith (2009)
I have friends who spent years nagging me to commit my worthless life to paper, perhaps to make it easy to burn. I don't know?
I said forever I would do no such thing. It is blatantly egotistical. Is it not bordering on the tawdry? It smacks of being showy and tasteless like standing on the street tooting a horn and yelling "look at me, look at me".
Then I remembered I'm a guy who once wore orange Flag-Flyerswouldn't be the first time I was tasteless and showy. And I obviously didn’t snap on orange shoes to fade into the background.
So instead I told everyone it was unnecessary. I have been a writer since age 12, read my stories and you’ll know my life, no need to make it formal.
This is really a lie, of course. Every writer becomes a character
Thus I gave in and am penning (are we still allowed to say, “pen”) my minor life, and even worse putting it out in the Blogosphere before prying eyes.
I gave this endeavor a title, Impressions of My Life, because that is all we have of ourselves -- impressions.
I am in my mid-seventies. My memory is tattered and torn. Perhaps what I recall differs from what others remember. Much of my early years are hearsay, but even where I was an active participant and witness to events of my own living that I can remember, I only see them through these two eyes. Maybe if I saw my life through different eyes from a different spot I would appear a different person.
Although my posting have titles, they are actually snipped and sewn together parts of chapters. I have posted these chapters so far:
1 Beginning of Me
2 Downingtown the First Time
3 Swamp Rat
The chapter currently being posted piecemeal is called “Lost Innocence” The next three chapters are “Into the Weeds”, “Sex and the System” and “Gates of Hormone Hell”. You can see this will rapidly move from my losing my childhood innocence to gaining an evil teenage mind. I make no apologies for what I will write. I am not a perfect person, far from it. I am a much-flawed individual.
However, since there may be some negativity concerning others I have been brought to a decision crossroads. What should I include? Should I censor out certain occurrences? Maybe I should only tell the cutesy things or the funny things and not the darker ones? Should I use real names or substitute pseudonyms? A lot of the people from my life are dead, but not all and of those who have passed on, they have friends and relatives who knew them and might have seen them in a better light than I. (Perhaps a worse light, too.) The goal
What I did in my youth is past. I cannot change it. I don’t care to lie about it. I wasn’t a Christian until I was 34 years old. I don’t think those who knew me before then would have said I was a bad guy, but they didn’t know everything about me and what was in my head. They don’t know just how much about me changed when I became a Christian.
I believe here in my dotage I’m a better person than I ever was before,
Now What do I include from here?
There are places I Remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places have their moments
In My Life
--John Lennon & Paul McCartney